It Was Always You
by lostnthesound
Summary: Quinn has always had a thing for Rachel. When Quinn is instantly killed in a car crash, Death gives her one choice: to move on, or to remain on this world as a guardian angel of sorts. Could this be her second chance at being the girl Rachel deserves?
1. Chapter 1

"**Even at our birth, death does but stand aside a little. And every day (s)he looks towards us and muses somewhat to (her)self whether that day or the next (s)he will draw nigh.**** " Robert Bolt  
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Death sauntered down the crowded halls of McKinley High; her bare feet did not feel the chill of the bleached linoleum. Her lacey black dress clung to the slight curve of her hips. Her soft scarlet curls were held together with a satin black bow and bounced with each determined step.

Everyone in the hallway unconsciously held their breath, desperately hoping she wouldn't greet them. As she skidded to a halt next to locker 324, the students of McKinley High collectively breathed a sigh of relief. They would live to see another day.

Quinn Fabray scurried down the bustling stairs, carefully maneuvering herself around a group of freshman boys who didn't quite seem to grasp the concept of a late bell. She was oblivious to the complete standstill in the hallway. Her mind was swarmed with the concern of being late to Cheerios practice. Coach Sylvester had recently allowed the blonde to come back on the team for her last few months of senior year, and she really did not want the older woman questioning her decision.

It wasn't until Quinn reached her locker that she realized what everyone was focusing on, and for once it wasn't her. Perched on the balls of her feet was a girl with fiery red hair who did not look old enough to be in high school. Quinn was instantly taken aback when the child looked up at her. The young girl's piercing blue eyes seemed to stare straight through Quinn, almost like she was inconsequential.

"Are you ready?" the girl asked.

"Excuse me?" Quinn questioned the redhead. She really did not have time for this.

"It's time to go Quinnie!" the little girl sang.

"Who do you think you are?" Quinn replied a little more agitated than before.

"Your classmates all seem to know who I am. You do too, if you just think about it for a little while."

Quinn glanced down the hallway and saw every eye staring back at her. A chill erupted down her spine as she began to realize who this seemingly insignificant little girl was.

"Ahh, there you go Quinnie!" the redhead encouraged. "It's time to go," she whispered softly as she held out her small hand. Quinn glimpsed at her peers' faces. Yesterday, these faces were insignificant. Today, they were the only ones who could save her.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Quinn dragged her limp hand over to the screeching alarm and pressed the snooze button. She had dreamed of the redheaded girl for the last four nights. Each night it felt a little more real.

The blonde slowly climbed out from underneath her covers. After she had gotten the pristine Cheerios uniform to lay flat, she pulled on her freshly polished Nike's, grabbed her backpack, and trotted down the stairs of her childhood home, two at a time.

Quinn's car radio sung the soulful tunes of Etta James. As "Someone to Watch Over Me" began to play the blonde cheerleader found her mind wandering to her favorite opinionated diva.

It drifted to thoughts of the earnest look in the brunette's eyes whenever she confronted the cheerleader. Quinn was fully aware of how she felt about Rachel, despite the fact that she tried to deny her feelings for years. She knew she wanted the diminutive singer to hold her and tell her that all is forgiven. She knew she wanted to curl up on a couch and watch all of Rachel's favorite old musicals with her. She knew she wanted to go on long walks with Rachel, their hands firmly clasped together. Quinn wanted to know her, she wanted to befriend her, to be there for her, but she was acutely aware of the social consequences of such actions.

The blonde somehow managed to find a parking space in the front of her high school's parking lot and made her way to her locker. As she strutted down the crowded hallway, she spotted Brittany and Santana standing in front of her locker. The Latina was obviously agitated that Quinn was running late.

"Good God Q! Took you long enough to get here!" Santana huffed.

"Quinn, are you alright? You look like Lord Tubbington does when shut him outside of my room so San and I can have sexy times," Brittany inquired.

Santana quickly raised an eyebrow at Quinn. Her girlfriend often had a rare insight into the human mind; the Latina would never doubt that. She just wanted to know what had Quinn feeling so lost.

Just as Quinn was about to respond to the other blonde, the morning bell rang.

"Saved by the bell, Q. We _are _talking about this later," Santana replied as she linked pinkies with her girlfriend and sauntered off towards her first class.

Shutting her locker, Quinn breathed a sigh of relief when her eyes landed on the number 26 plastered on the tan metal.

"Take that you little redhead!" she whispered.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful for Quinn. Wednesdays always bored the blonde. She slept through Spanish and did the bare minimum in Gym. Since she had already taken all of her AP tests, she got to watch Pride and Prejudice in her AP Literature class instead of doing any actual work. She had always related to Mr. Darcy. If only Lizzie Bennet had understood his true intentions, they could have been happy and in love from the very moment they met.

It wasn't until Glee that afternoon that Quinn's spirits began to rise. The group had three weeks left until Nationals. Consequently, they spent the first forty minutes of rehearsals arguing over which numbers they should perform. The club unanimously agreed that The Troubletones would perform their mash-up of "Someone Like You" and "Rumor Has It". Schuester was desperately trying to convince the kids to sing "Don't Stop Believin'" one last time.

With only five minutes left to spare of the meeting, the club was no closer to deciding their performance pieces then they were two weeks ago. Just as the club was about to call it quits and pack up their bags to head home, Rachel stood up and walked to the center of the room.

"I have been practicing this piece for the past few weeks, and I was hoping you might contemplate adding it to our play list for Nationals," the brunette announced to her peers.

Brad began to play a simple upbeat melody as the diva swayed her hips to the beat.

"_You're a falling star, you're the get away car.  
>You're the line in the sand when I go too far.<br>You're the swimming pool, on an August day  
>and you're the perfect thing to say."<em>

Quinn recognized the song after the first line. She had always been a fan of Michael Bublé. When she was younger, she would listen to the song and dream of the day that someone would feel that way about her. Sitting in the choir room, hearing the girl she secretly liked sing it to her brutish fiancé was almost too much for the blonde to handle. Quinn had always been mesmerized when Rachel sang, and this time was no exception. No matter how much it hurt to listen, Quinn found that she could not look away.

"_You're every song  
>and I sing along<br>Cause you're my everything."_

By the end of the performance, the blonde's eyes had welled with tears. It took everything she had to walk out of the room without shedding any. Once she stepped outside, she was shocked to find the world had turned to gray. Her tears began to mix with the rain that was falling all around her. When she was younger, Quinn's mother had explained that raindrops were merely angel's tears. Since her father disapproved of crying or any sign of weakness, Quinn rarely allowed herself to cry, but since the angels were already crying, she figured God approved. "Someday, Quinn. Someday you will be loved too," she whispered to herself, safe in the confines of her car. Clicking in her seat belt, Quinn turned on the vehicle and maneuvered her car out of the busy parking lot. She just wanted to get back to her bed as quickly as possible, let the warmth of her down comforter protect her. She had driven these roads so many times that she naturally glided down them. Perhaps she was driving a few miles above the speed limit, but she just ignored the speedometer. She ignored the red light just fifty feet in front of her. She even ignored the pearly SUV soaring through the intersection, that is, until the SUV was plowing into her driver side door panel at 60 mph. As the world slowly faded to black, Quinn swore she saw a little girl with red curls standing on the sidewalk staring at the crash before her.

Quinn found herself in complete darkness. All she could see were a pair of warm brown eyes, haunting her, begging her to be more, just once in her life. She would recognize those eyes anywhere. It was Rachel Barbara Berry. The one girl who could make Quinn question everything. Slowly though Rachel's eyes began to fade away too, and once more the darkness swallowed the blonde whole.

After a lifetime, or perhaps a few minutes, the world began to take shape once more. Quinn slowly blinked open her eyes and found herself tucked under the covers of her bed once more.

"A nightmare within a nightmare. God, I really have to stop watching Inception," she mumbled to herself as she climbed out of bed.

The world felt lighter, almost as though she had all her stuffing removed and was left with just the shell of who she used to be. She reached down and touched her toned legs. Poking at her calf, she found it odd that they don't sting after Coach Sylvester made them run the bleachers for two hours the day before. Since she had obviously slept through all of her classes that day, she decided it would be best for her to go to school to get homework from her teachers. Quinn meandered down the stairs and out to her driveway. Expecting to see her cherry red car parked in front of her house, Quinn was shocked to see the driveway completely empty "I guess I will be walking to school then!" the blonde groaned. After the fifteen-minute walk to school, she found herself in an abandoned school parking lot. Quinn knew the likelihood of any of her teachers still being on campus was slim to none, but she trotted up to the school's entrance nonetheless. Once inside the building, it was obvious that no one was still there, but something kept the cheerleader from just heading home. There was a slight ache pulling at her heart. It was the same feeling she got anytime Rachel was near. She could not smell the girl's signature spritz of Chanel No.5. She couldn't see her scuffed penny loafers, nor could she hear the distinct sound they made as they hit the linoleum with each determined step, but she knew Rachel was near, nevertheless. Quinn glanced down the empty hallway and fond the entrance to the school's theatre. Mumbling a soft prayer, the girl pulled upon the heavy oak doors, all the while, hoping she could hear the diva's angelic voice. She was not disappointed. The brunette's distinct voice bounced off the surrounding walls, inviting the blonde to come closer. Tears instantly built up in Quinn's eyes as she heard Rachel sing with such conviction.

"_People  
>People who need people<br>Are the luckiest people in the world,  
>We're children, needing other children<br>And yet letting our grown-up pride  
>Hide all the need inside,<br>Acting more like children  
>Than chil-"<em>

The diva was suddenly cut off as the first few lines of "Sweet Caroline" jingled from the side of the stage. A small smile graced the brunette's face as she dashed over to grab her phone.

" Well hello Noah! How are you doing this lovely afternoon?" Rachel questioned, a saccharine smile plastered across her face. " Noah," Rachel spoke cautiously the smile on her face slowly fading, "Speak clearly, I can't understand you." Rachel's eyes welled with tears as the words Noah had said seemed to register. "I will be right there," she replied without any of he aforementioned joy.

"Hey Berry," Quinn called out from the back of the theater, once the brunette was off the phone. The diva did not seem to register Quinn's words, obviously still in shock from the news she had just received.

"Rachel?" Quinn spoke again. "Rachel, you okay?"

The brunette squared her shoulders, any trace of emotion instantly erased from her face. Rachel stepped down the stairs leading up to the stage, and marched all the way out the theater.

"Rach, what's wrong?"

Quinn followed the star, continuously calling out her name, until they reached Rachel's Prius. The diva got in without a second glance at the blonde.

"If you're not going to tell me what's happening, I am just going to get in the car with you, because I am certainly not leaving you alone, and then getting blamed when you get hurt!"

Quinn snapped.

She reached down to pull the handle of Rachel's car. A deep sinking feeling took over the pit of her stomach, however, when her hand just swept through the car door.

"Berry, what the hell is wrong with your car?" Quinn questioned, hoping that this was all just a misunderstanding.

When the diva just turned the car on in response, Quinn decided not to question the physics of Rachel's car, and tentatively stuck her arm through the door. Shock splashed across her face as the rest of her body slipped through the metal and onto the passenger seat. She didn't have much time to contemplate her past action, however, as Rachel started driving determinedly down the road. At first Quinn thought they were driving to the Puckerman house, but was proved wrong when the car continued on its path just two blocks past said residence and pulled into the parking lot of their local hospital's emergency room. Fear began to build up in Quinn's mind as Rachel's sadness spilled out of her every pore.

The two walked through the automatic doors of the emergency room stoically, neither dared to say another word. No amount of Grey's Anatomy episodes could have ever prepared them for the sight before them. The room smelled of worry. Santana, known for her tough shell, was clinging to Brittany. The Latina was trying her best to hold back her tears. Every so often a loud sob would escape from her shuddering lips. Brittany's cheeks were stained with grief, but that didn't stop her from slowly rubbing circles on her girlfriend's back. Tina had her face buried in Mike's shoulder; their knuckles were white as they gripped each other's hands. Mercedes, Artie, Sam, Kurt, and Finn all stared at the evening news being played on the television propped in the corner of the room. None of them really seemed to be paying attention, though. They all just seemed lost. Puck was hunched over in the stiff waiting room chair, his elbows perched on his knees, his hands covering his swollen eyes. Mr. Schuester had a hand clasped on the boy's shoulder, unsure of how to comfort the distraught young man.

Quinn took in the scene before her, unaware of what was causing their misery, and therefore, unsure of how to react. Her brunette companion took a few tentative steps into the waiting room, alerting her fellow Jew to her presence. Puck quickly stood up and rushed over to the petite girl, wrapping the little diva in an airtight hug. As he pulled back from her comforting arms, his face scrunched up as though he was going to start sobbing all over again.

"I was supposed to take her home today," Puck choked out, " She was going to come and help me with my Algebra homework, because she knew I needed to pass the class in order to graduate, and she wanted, she w-w-wanted to make sure th-that when Beth was older sh-sh-she could be proud of her parents." He paused, obviously trying to collect himself. "Th-they called my mom because we are s-s-still on her emergency contact list from B-B-Beth. I'm s-s-s-so sorry Rach. This is all my f-f-fault."

"Where is she?" Rachel questioned, all emotion drained from her voice.

A nurse at the counter seemed to recognize Rachel, and quickly came over to the eerily silent diva.

"Rachel, dear, your dad is in the middle of surgery right now, so he can't be here yet. Is there anything I can do for you, while you wait?" the overly boney woman asked.

"Where is she?" Rachel repeated with the same lack of life.

"Just down the hall, honey, room 324."

Quinn was instantly overwhelmed with nausea. She wanted to wake up. She wanted to get as far away from this hospital as possible.

Rachel didn't acknowledge the woman; instead, her feet just seemed to guide her forward, down the hall the nurse had referred to. Quinn was unsure if she should follow, but her curiosity outweighed her fear of hospitals. She was a few steps behind the diva, and nearly plowed into the petite brunette when she came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of room 324.

"Rachel?" Quinn spoke hesitantly, she was unsure if she wanted to see what was in the room. It was only when she noticed Rachel's shoulders begin to heave, that Quinn noticed the diva was sobbing silently. When the brunette leaned against the doorframe for support, Quinn took it as her opportunity to step past the brunette and into the cramped ICU room.

Lying frozen in the stiff hospital bed was a very bruised and broken Quinn Fabray.

**Please please please review. Let me know what you think! The more reviews, the sooner I will publish the next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So look at that! Last night's episode proved this was perfect timing for this story! I wasn't going to post this until next week, but you all have inspired me with your reviews. Just know the story gets happier as time goes on. By the way, the song at the end is supposed to be Imogen Heap's version. Here's to hoping Quinn lives on the show… **

"_Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there's a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.__" –Hellen Keller_

Lying frozen in the stiff hospital bed was a very bruised and broken Quinn Fabray.

"What is this?" Quinn whispered, too terrified to wake the sleeping body before her. She reached forward, attempting to touch what appeared to be her arm. Just as her fingers would have impacted the creamy flesh, they slipped right through, just as they had in Rachel's car. This had to have been some kind of joke. Quinn refused to believe this body camouflaged with bruises was her own. Sure, she could see the scar on her left wrist she had acquired on her eighth birthday when Puck tried to teach her how to play Star Wars. And maybe that was her gold cross necklace twisted around the body's neck, but Quinn refused to believe it was her.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Quinn laughed uneasily. "What? Did Artie perfect the science of holograms or something?'

"Actually Quinnie, that's you!"

Quinn spun quickly on her heel towards the direction the voice came from. Sprawled out over the chair in the corner of the room sat the little redheaded girl from Quinn's dreams. Terrified hazel eyes connected with her mischievous crystal blue ones as the two acknowledged each other's existence.

"Hi!" the redheaded girl giggled while waving to the older blonde.

"Rach, why did you let her in?" Quinn questioned the brunette who was still frozen in the doorway.

"She can't see you Quinnie!" the girl replied as if it were ridiculous to think otherwise. "Only I can."

As if a switch had been turned on in her brain, Rachel abruptly walked over to the side of the bed. She easily slid her hand into the blonde's. The action seemed so familiar, it was almost as though the brunette did it everyday. With her free hand, Rachel brushed back Quinn's bangs.

"Hi Quinn," Rachel whispered. "I know you probably can't hear me, but just in case you can-"

A soft whimper erupted from the brunette's mouth as tears started to skid down her cheeks.

"I just want you to know, that there is a waiting room full of people out there, who are praying for you. I know that you must be fighting in there, and I just- I ju-just want you to know that if, if it is too h-hard to kee-keep fighting-"

Rachel choked on her tears. She reached up to Quinn's swollen face and cupped her cheek.

"Quinn, it's okay to give up if you can't fight anymore," she continued even though her face was crumbling. "I don't want you to leave me, I don't want to live without you, b-but I also don't want you to be in pain, s-so if-if you-"

Rachel's strong exterior broke as she laid her head down on the side of the bed and sobbed. Quinn couldn't stand to see her in so much pain.

"Why can't she see me?" Quinn yelled towards the younger girl. "Am I dead? Is that it?"

The ginger took a moment to consider this question. "Not exactly," she replied. "Your body is still functioning, your lungs sucking in oxygen, your heart pumping blood, your brain still active. You are just no longer a part of it. Right now, you are just roaming the Earth, a silent observer. You can choose to stay and be stuck in your past life, or you can come with me to a place you couldn't dream up even if you tried."

"I have a choice?" Quinn replied, pure confusion splashed across her face.

"You always have a choice Quinnie," she replied nonchalantly. "Tell you what, go Scrooge it up for a little while. Go see your friends and family, see how they are handling the news."

"I'm scared to."

"Go anyway," the girl offered. "You may be surprised by what you find."

The bleached hospital room began to fade into the familiar shape of Coach Sylvester's office. Students rushed by the office windows, eager to leave the school now that classes were over. Sue stared out the transparent window into the bustling parking lot. Quinn hovered in the corner of the office next to an abundance of shimmering trophies. Just as she was about to step closer to observe her cheerleading coach, the door to Sue's office opened. In walked a downtrodden Brittany and Santana, their pinkies linked.

"Coach, I know you're mad that we skipped practice, and-"

"I'm going to stop you there, S. As you well know I lost my sister last year… I know Q is like your sister," Sue spoke softly.

Brittany hiccupped on a tear as Santana tried desperately to keep her tears at bay.

"I just got a call from Figgins. They don't expect Quinn to make it through the day," she paused, allowing time for the words to sink in. "You two are excused from practice for the week. Go be with your family."

Santana nodded, grabbed Brittany's hand, and slowly walked to the locker room to pack up her things. Quinn followed closely behind the couple. As Santana shoved random articles of clothing into her Cheerio's bag, her girlfriend sat still on the bench separating the lockers, tears still streaming down her face.

The brunette had a rather blank expression on her face until she looked down the aisle of sports lockers. Quinn followed the Latina's line of vision and saw her locker at the end of the row, a solitary rose looped in the lock.

In a moment, Santana's knees had crashed to the ground as sobs racked through her body. The world around Quinn began to get a little hazier, leaving her with the final image of her two best friends wrapped in each other's arms on the floor of the locker room.

Quinn blinked a few times, trying to bring life to the new scene around her. She would recognize this room anywhere. The blonde found herself in the living room of her childhood home. All the lights had been turned off, giving the room an eerie vibe. Her mother sat stiffly on the rigid couch, a glass of brandy in her hand.

The silence of the room was unexpectedly interrupted when a harsh thumping erupted from the door behind her mother, the constant staccato of fists impacting wood. Quinn could see her father through the opaque glass in the door. She had never seen him so distraught, so weak.

"Judy!" he cried. "Let me see her, let me see my baby girl!"

Judy just continued to swirl the ice chips in her glass of brandy. Quinn did not know a living, breathing woman could look so dead inside.

"I don't want to see this!" Quinn screamed. "I don't want to see the pain I'm causing! That's all I do, cause pain!"

The world faded at Quinn's request, when the mysterious little girl responded.

"Quinnie! Don't give up yet. Just keep watching…"

Once more, the world began to take shape. Quinn found herself behind the drum in the choir room. This room had always been a place of such joy for her. At this moment, however, there was no joy to be found, not in the faces of her friends slouched in the plastic chairs, not even in their usually effervescent teacher.

Puck, the only man who had always been there for Quinn, sat just as he had in the waiting room, his moist eyes buried in his large hands. The blonde took the few short steps until she was right in front of the father of her child. She kneeled down in front of Puck, wanting nothing more than to reach out and hold him.

"Puck, please," she whispered. "I'm alright. I'm right here. You did all you could to protect me."

The door to the choir room squeaked open as Rachel shuffled to the closest open seat. Her expressive chocolate eyes were red and swollen.

The scene gripped at Quinn's heart. They all looked so lost, so hopeless. Even Mr. Schue sat slumped against the piano as Kurt began to play a few soft melodies.

"Dude! Seriously stop with the piano," Sam yelled. "It's creeping me out."

Mercedes reached over to her irritated boyfriend; the simple action calmed him considerably.

She began to hum a few notes, and grabbed the hands of those sitting next to her.

"_Baby I've been here before  
>I've seen this room and I've walked this floor (you know)<br>I used to live alone before I knew you  
>And I've seen your flag on the marble arch<br>and love is not a victory march  
>It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah<em>"

A few of the club members lifted their heads in response to the woman's broken voice. Silently, they reached over and took their friends hands in theirs. 

"_Maybe there's a God above  
>all I've ever learned from love<br>Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you  
>And it's not a cry that you hear at night<br>It's not somebody who's seen the light  
>It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah<br>Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah..."_

The group sang all together, hoping the music could heal them, could heal Quinn.

"_Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...  
>Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelu-"<em>

A shrill ring echoed throughout the room, silencing its inhabitants. quickly ruffled through his coat pockets, desperately trying to find the source of the disruption.

"Hello?" he muttered into his cell phone.

His bloodshot eyes, flooded with tears as he reached up to rub his forehead.

"Okay," he choked out. The teacher looked up into the twelve pairs of eyes all staring at him for answers.

"Th-that was P-principal Figgins," Mr. Schue choked out. "Quinn, she, she didn't make it."

**Please review. It inspired me to write more this time; perhaps it will do it again!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much for reading this little story of mine. A huge thank you to all of you who reviewed! I tried to respond to all of you that had actual accounts. I didn't think the last chapter was too sad, but I made my mother cry when she read it…. Sorry Mommy. Don't worry, this story will be happy…soon.**

"_Death is a very dull, dreary affair, and my advice to you is to have nothing whatsoever to do with it.__" –W. Somerset Maugham_

Quinn Fabray looked down at her pristine Nike's. She was not floating off the ground. Her body did not fade into mist. Her skin did not look any paler than it's usual shade of eggshell. She did not resemble any of the ghosts she had read about growing up. In fact, Quinn did not feel any different than she had felt in the hospital room just a few hours ago.

The sun streamed in through the choir room's windows. She reached forward a hesitant hand, but when the rays hit her skin, she felt no warmth or comfort from them. Her hand did not even leave a shadow on the floor. When had she died? Why didn't she feel it?

This was never how Quinn had imagined death to be. A small part of her had always hoped that when her time came she would wake up at the pearly gates. She wanted all those late night prayers to mean something. Instead, she just got to sit and watch all her loved ones suffer, no white light in sight.

Tina was the first of the glee club to react to Mr. Schuester's news.

"No, no, no, no, no," she chanted as she rocked against the stiff plastic chair. Her moans seemed to snap the rest of the room out of their daze as pure misery broke out amongst the remaining glee club members.

Quinn just stared at the despair before her. The scene reminded her of a time back when she was just ten years old. Her father had gone on another one of his drunken rampages. Consequently, she found herself lying in the field behind her house. She was picking at the long blades of grass around her when she heard a small peeping sound a few feet away from her. Pulling herself up to all fours, the blonde crept over to the mysterious noise. There, buried between a few twigs was a baby bluebird. Quinn knew something was wrong with the little winged-creature because of the precarious angle its neck was in. She feared that the slightest movement would just hurt the bird even more. She felt so useless. It's incessant screeching haunted her for months afterwards.

As she stood in the choir room, that same feeling washed over her as she watched Rachel react to the news. The brunette just stared at the opposite wall, almost as though she were in a trance. Her bottom lip was quivering, as a small puddle of tears formed on the Biology textbook in her lap.

Meanwhile, Rachel's oaf of a fiancé just watched her cry, looking rather confused about the entire situation.

"HOLD HER YOU IDIOT!" Quinn screamed at Finn. "Can't you see she is in pain?"

"Quinnie, how many times must I tell you? They cannot hear you," a little voice whispered in Quinn's head. Just as Quinn was about to rush over to Rachel herself, the room lost all color. She was surrounded in darkness once more.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Quinn moaned, obviously frustrated by the rapid transformation.

"I can't have you getting too attached to that world, Quinnie," Death replied. "My job is to get you to move on, to leave all of this behind. I am required to show you everyone's reactions, and then you get to make your choice: to remain stuck wandering the Earth forever, or to move on to bigger and better things….alas, it is too early for you to make your decision. You still have one more place to go."

"Wait, don't leave yet, I still have more ques-"

Before Quinn could respond to Death, the world began to take shape once more. The blonde found herself standing on the altar of St. Matthew's, the Catholic Church she had practically been raised in. White gardenias surrounded a striking ebony coffin. A four-piece orchestra sat near the front of the church playing soft melodies. A giant copy of Quinn's senior portrait was propped up next to the casket, in lieu of an open coffin.

The pews were packed with mourners in black, a few of the women blotting at their eyes with cotton handkerchiefs. The first few rows were filled with her fellow glee club members and their families. A couple of the families Quinn babysat for sat behind them, as well as, some kids she had seen in passing at school. Russell and Judy Fabray sat rigidly against the wooden pew in the front row. Their faces showed no emotion.

"Thank you all for coming today," a voice echoed out behind Quinn. She had been staring at her parents for so long that she failed to notice Sue Sylvester had taken the podium.

"I first met Quinn Fabray the summer of 2008. It was the summer before her freshman year of high school. She was one of the few freshmen gutsy enough to show up for varsity cheerleading try-outs. I had never seen her before, but I knew, just by looking at her, that she was a fighter. I had seen girls who were more skilled than her. Girls with more experience, girls with more pep, but never in all my years of coaching had I ever seen a girl who had more desire or passion than Quinn Fabray. She was only on the team for a year before she became the youngest captain McKinley ever had. Quinn is the… was the only person who would stand up to me."

Sue paused for a moment, a somber smile on her lips.

"Q suffered more in her high school years than I did in my entire life. Her story, her legacy, is not about suffering though. It's about overcoming sadness. She taught me that no matter how difficult life becomes, there is always hope for a better future… I just wish she could have enjoyed hers more."

Quinn followed Sue's slow progression back to her seat. The cheerleading coach seemed older to Quinn, less intimidating. She didn't have as much fight in her as Quinn remembered.

Just as Sue sat back down in the second row of pews, Mr. Schuester stood up and began to approach the altar.

"Good afternoon," he muttered into the microphone. " I was fortunate enough to work with Quinn in Glee club for the past three years. It was obvious to everyone who encountered Quinn that she was a beautiful girl, but only those lucky enough to call her a friend got to know why."

Quinn rolled her eyes at her teacher's silly antics. She was not in the mood to listen to another one of his life lessons.

"Quinn always had a way of allowing only the good to shine through, no matter what pain she was suffering. She was so selfless, always doing things for the good of the club, for the good of her friends."

A hearty laugh escaped from Quinn's mouth.

"You didn't say that a few months ago when you were yelling at me in your office!" she yelled back spitefully.

"I just hope that she has found peace. Quinn, you will be greatly missed," Mr. Schuester concluded as tears skidded down his cheeks.

Quinn was ready to leave. This funeral was merely depressing her. She didn't want to hear another teacher of hers talk about how "strong" or "inspirational" she was.

"Hey!" Quinn hollered to the heavens. "Hey, I wanna go. I have seen enough."

"As much as I wish I could just take you away now, you have to see it all. Patience, my little Petunia," Death's voice echoed throughout Quinn's head.

Quinn collapsed on the floor in front of the first pew with a sigh, her legs tucked underneath her.

"Hhhhmmm. Uh, hey," Quinn heard Puck's deep voice erupting from the church speakers.

"So, I'm not too good with words," he began. "Q and I met in first grade when she yelled at me for chasing the other girls on the playground. Umm… she was always doing that, keeping me in line."

The crowd chuckled at Puck's comment.

"At first we were just best friends, her, Finn, and I. I mean she was the best Princess Leia this side of the Mississippi, who wouldn't want to be friends with her?" Puck smiled at the memory. "I realized I was in love with her at my Bar Mitzvah in the eighth grade. I had just started dating this girl from homeroom, so I decided to bring her to my party as my date. My mom had hired this kid from McKinley to DJ the party, but no one was really dancing. My date just kind of stood there, she didn't want to ruin her hair, or something, I'm not quite sure why because the entire night I couldn't take my eyes off of my crazy best friend. Quinn was just spinning around that dance floor looking happier then I had ever seen her. She looked like an angel."

Quinn found herself sharing Puck's smile. That was one of the best nights of her life. She had had to sneak out of her house in order to go because her parents didn't want her to attend the Jewish celebration. It was so liberating to not listen to them.

"Everyone keeps talking about how Quinn suffered in high school. Well, I guess I'm to blame for that. When she got pregnant sophomore year, I was scared, sure, but probably not as scared as I should have been. You see, the idea of getting married to Quinn and spending the rest of my life with her and our baby seemed like a really good plan," Puck was desperately wiping at the tears dribbling down his cheeks.

"Quinn getting pregnant was the best thing to ever happen to me because I got my best friend back. She helped me turn my life around. I stopped sleeping around, and beating people up. I joined Glee club and made new friends. Basically, Quinn is the reason I'm not in Juvi. She helped me, when I should have been helping her," he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, but the sobs continued to rack through his body.

Sensing her friend's distress, Rachel rushed up to the stage and placed an arm around Puck's shaking torso.

"Um, good afternoon. My name is Rachel Barbra Berry. I'm in Glee with Noah and… and Quinn. I think what Noah is trying to get at, what everyone today has been trying to get at is that Quinn's life cannot be merely summed up in a few words. She was more than the cheerleader, or singer. She was more than the troubled adolescent or teenage mother. She was Quinn Fabray, a girl I was lucky enough to call my friend. At times she was cruel and aloof, but most importantly, she was family. We are all a family in Glee. It's important for families to say goodbye together."

Noiselessly, the missing Glee club members assembled around Rachel on the altar, hands clasped, arms wrapped around each other, seeking comfort from their friends.

Mr. Schuester handed Puck his guitar so that the Jewish boy could begin a simple melody.

Rachel's arm remained hooked around the taller boy as she began to sing.

"_There's no one in town I know, you gave us some place to go.I never said thank you for that.I thought I might get one more chance.  
>What would you think of me now,so lucky, so strong, so proud?I never said thank you for that,now I'll never have a chance."<em>

The rest of the club began to harmonize with her as the chorus began. Not a single member was looking at the audience, or the casket to their right. Every single one of them had their eyes fixed on the heavens.

"_May angels lead you you me my sleepless roads the sleepless angels lead you in. And if you were with me tonight,I'd sing to you just one more time.A song for a heart so big,god couldn't let it angels lead you you me my sleepless roads the sleepless angels lead you angels lead you you me my sleepless roads the sleepless angels lead you angels lead you in."_

As the last few notes of their haunting lullaby reached Quinn's ears, she found the world changing once more. She recognized the homey décor of her new surroundings instantly. Rachel Berry's house was packed with mourners clad in black. The blonde wandered through the entire downstairs, desperate to find her friends.

Huddled by the base of the stairs were the few people in her life she could actually rely on. They didn't appear to be fairing well. In fact, Puck and Rachel appeared to be arguing.

"Rach, she's gone! Just like that. She left us!" Puck spoke to Rachel rather heatedly.

"She didn't have a choice, Noah," the brunette replied through gritted teeth.

"What the hell do you mean she didn't have a choice? She knew those roads Rachel. SHE DROVE THEM EVERYDAY. Don't you think she knew where the stoplights were? Did she spontaneously become blind? The light was red and she didn't slow down at all. Rachel she left us. Just accept it."

"I hope without cause, Noah," Rachel responded, her voice tired, her shoulders sagging. "She's gone, I know, I watched them bury her casket in the ground, but she isn't in that coffin Noah."

"What is this? Some conspiracy shit? I thought you were better than that Rachel," Noah interjected.

"FOUR WALLS COULD NEVER CONTAIN HER," she screamed back at him. "She's Quinn Fabray, Head Bitch in Charge of McKinley. If you honestly believe that she is gone, just because her body is buried, then you obviously did not know her as well as I thought you did."

Quinn swore she saw steam pouring out of Rachel's ears. She had seen the diva speak passionately about her convictions before, but never had she seen Rachel stand up for her. Pride swelled throughout the blonde as she followed the fuming brunette to her bedroom.

Quinn had never been in Rachel's room before, but she had seen it in the background of the singer's myspace videos. The room before her looked nothing like the bubbly lilac hideaway Quinn had seen during her sophomore year. Next to the closet full of rabid animal sweaters was a pile of wrinkled black clothes, as if the diva had thrown them to the ground in a fit of rage. The usually immaculate elliptical was collecting dust and appeared to be Rachel's new drying rack for her towels. The blonde was so entranced with the diva's world that she failed to notice the diva herself, who was now stripping off her burdensome mourning dress. It took every ounce of restraint that Quinn had to give Rachel her privacy and not ogle at her. Instead, the dead girl began to examine the contents of Rachel's desk. Tucked in the corner of the large vanity were a series of framed autographed photos featuring the likes of Barbra Streisand, Patti LuPone, and Bernadette Peters. A small smile graced Quinn's lips when she saw a photo of her and Rachel taken at Regionals just a few weeks prior, propped besides the Broadway stars.

Behind her, Quinn heard the distinct sound of bed springs squeaking, and figured it was safe to turn around once more. The diva was sprawled across her bed, one hand behind her head, another resting on her stomach.

A muffled knock echoed throughout the room.

"Come in," Rachel muttered just loud enough for whoever was behind the door to hear her.

Puck shuffled into the room like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs. One look at the somber boy, and Rachel patted the bed beside her.

The young man crawled into the queen-sized bed and Rachel instantly put her head on his chest.

"I'm so sorry Rach."

"Me too Noah," she sighed.

"I don't think I can live without her," Rachel confessed quietly. "I just always felt this unexplainable connection with her. I don't know what it was, but life just doesn't feel the same without her-"

"Aww how sweet," the dreaded voice snickered in Quinn's ear. " Come on Quinnie, you can leave now. You've seen everything you had to."

As Quinn turned towards the petite redhead, the world gradually transferred to a dreary darkness.

"I'm not leaving her. I don't care if it means being stuck here!" Quinn spat.

"Teenagers really are rather angsty," Death scoffed. "Honestly, you think one little high school crush is worth sticking around this dreadful place for the rest of eternity? Oh well, you have already made your choice. Good luck watching her be happy without you."

"Apparently I've already 'suffered' enough. I think I can deal with a little more pain," the blonde replied with a smug smile.

"Ahhh. Well, I hope you are happy with your choice. Goodbye Quinnie."

As the redhead faded once more into eternity, Quinn found herself back in the corner of Rachel's room. She was unsure of how much time had passed, but Noah was no longer in the room, and the moon was high in the clear night sky.

Curled up on top of the covers, Rachel was desperately clinging to a pillow, attempting to choke back her sobs.

"Oh Rach, if only you could see me. I'm here, I promise. I wouldn't leave you," Quinn spoke softly.

As Quinn talked to the grieving girl, she noticed Rachel's body stiffen with each word she muttered. The brunette shot straight up in bed. Quickly rubbing the tears off her face, Rachel scanned her room until her eyes locked with the blondes.

"Quinn?"

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW. It motivates me to write more.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for sticking with this little story. For those of you who reviewed, I love you. I tried to respond to all of you who have actual accounts, so if you would like a response, either leave a way to contact you, or sign up for a free fanfic account. **

"_Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them." – George Eliot_

"Quinn?"

The blonde quirked an eyebrow at the startled diva. Had she just imagined Rachel calling out to her?

"Quinn, is that you?" the brunette asked again.

No, Rachel had definitely heard Quinn. Perhaps being a ghost wasn't the worst thing that could happen to a girl.

"Ummm… Hi Rach," Quinn softly replied.

The diva's eyes expanded to the size of saucers. Quinn had never seen Rachel look so startled in all her life.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Rachel chanted as she shot out of bed. "Wh-what are you doing here? Oh no, I'm going crazy. I am hallucinating. I can't go crazy! That will just prove to those homophobic bigots that a gay couple cannot raise a balanced healthy child. WHY GOD? Why did this have to happen to me!"

"Rachel, shut up," Quinn attempted to interrupt.

"All of my life I have tried to prove to people that I was a normal teenage girl, but I guess my peers were right all along, I am disturbed," the brunette's arms swung animatedly with each word.

"I'm not sure if talking to yourself is going to dispute those theories," Quinn chuckled in reply.

"Oh God! She's still talking!" the brunette gasped as she clutched a hand to her heart.

"Rachel, seriously, be quiet. You aren't going crazy. It's me. It's Quinn. I'm here, I swear."

"Well of course my subconscious would try to convince me that what it is seeing is real! Maybe Dad and Daddy were right. Perhaps Dr. Williams should move back in until I am emotionally stable."

"BERRY!" the blonde barked.

The brunette froze and dropped her arms to her side.

"Thank you," Quinn replied with a slight smile. " Although you may be a little crazy, Rachel, I am not a figment of your imagination."

Curious eyes raked up Quinn's slim frame. Tentatively, Rachel placed one foot in front of the other until she was standing right in front of the former head cheerleader. She cautiously extended her right hand towards Quinn's porcelain cheek. Instead of landing on smooth skin, however, Rachel's frail fingers went straight through Quinn.

"Cold," Rachel muttered under her breath.

"Did that prove anything for you?" Quinn questioned.

The diva just slowly shook her head, a curiosity shining through her eyes.

"Tell me something only Quinn Fabray would know?" she demanded.

"Umm…. I slapped you at Prom?" Quinn offered.

Rachel stiffened at the memory, "That doesn't count. I knew that already. Tell me something I don't already know."

"Well how about… it takes one hour and forty-two minutes to travel from Yale to NYADA along I-95," the blonde replied as a healthy blush spread across her face.

Tears flooded Rachel's chocolate eyes as the meaning of the words hit her. She whipped out her iPhone and poked around at the device. After a few minutes she dropped the phone to the floor.

"I didn't know that," she whispered. "So it's really you?"

Quinn nodded in reply, "This is what I have become, unfortunately."

"You're a ghost," Rachel did not phrase this as a question but Quinn felt it deserved an answer.

"I suppose I am. I mean, I'm kind of new to this whole dead thing." The two just stood there sizing each other up, neither quite knowing what to say to bring sense to their conversation.

"Alright. Let's just say, for hypothetical reasons, that I believe you. Can anyone else see you?"

"Well, up until fifteen minutes ago, _no one_ could see me… so I'm not quite-"

"Hold it right there. You mean to say that you have been _floating_ around here for _weeks_?"

Quinn chose to ignore Rachel's usage of the word floating, and addressed the more pressing issue.

"No, not weeks! I… woke up, I guess, a few hours after the car accident. I mean, I went with you to the hospital and-" 

"Quinn, you died three weeks ago," Rachel stated rather slowly.

"No-" Quinn interrupted while vehemently shaking her head.

"Yes, Quinn, the accident was four weeks ago on Greeley Street, about five minutes after glee got out."

"No, no, that was yesterday. The car accident was yesterday. Then, then I went to, to the glee practice after…" the blonde attempted to recall the events of the past few days. As each memory flooded her consciousness, she found herself more lost and confused.

The room seemed so much smaller to Quinn then she had remembered it being just a few minutes ago. The walls seemed like they were closing in around the blonde. Her limbs began to shudder, her chest constricted. A choked wheezy sound burst from Quinn's lips as she clutched at her chest. She attempted to block out the room around her and just focus on filling up her lungs. Try as she might, the blonde could not inhale any of the surrounding oxygen.

"Rach!" she coughed out. "Rachel, I can't breathe.'

The brunette just looked at the struggling spirit before her, concern splashed across her face.

"Quinn?" Rachel began tentatively, and then more harshly. "Quinn! Focus on me. Look at me. You seem to be having a panic attack. Now, I'm not quite sure how to help with this situation, seeing as the way I stop panic attacks is by focusing on my chest inhaling and exhaling, but well, breathing is only a necessity for the living…."

Quinn watched as Rachel's lips continued to move at a rapid pace. She could no longer hear the words spewing from the brunette's plump lips. Of course she couldn't breathe. She was dead. She had no lungs. She had no body. How could she hear then? See? None of this made any sense.

Rachel's sigh interrupted the blonde's thoughts. It was quite obvious that Quinn had not heard any of the diva's ramblings.

"Quinn, it's 3 in the morning, and if I start now, I may be able to sneak in one last REM cycle before my alarm goes off. If you are still here in the morning… well if you are still here we can try and figure this out… whatever _this_ is."

Hazel eyes followed Rachel's timid steps back to her bed. Quinn was still shaking slightly, her head packed with confusion and uncertainty, but she knew one thing to be true. She was happier with Rachel than she was with that demonic redhead.

As the brunette's rapid breathing began to even out, Quinn found herself caught up in the diva's beauty, the slight curve of her hips, how her legs never seemed to end. She enjoyed watching Rachel just sleep. She felt privileged to see the girl so peaceful and childlike. It was a nice change from Rachel's normal hyperactive self.

Sure enough, when the digital alarm clock to the right of Rachel's bed changed to 6:00, "Good Morning Baltimore" began to blast through the surprisingly loud speakers. A lazy hand searched for the source of the disturbance. After four failed attempts, the diva managed to silence Tracy Turnblad. The sleepy brunette kept her eyes firmly shut as she reached above her head and stretched. Quinn thought the diva resembled an exhausted kitten with her scruffy bed head and lazy attitude.

"Good morning Rachel."

"Ahhhhh!" the brunette screamed at the greeting and promptly fell of her bed in one big clump. After a few moments, a pair of wide brown eyes slowly peered over the top of the mattress. A wide smile appeared on Quinn's face at the sight of the diva and her silly antics.

"Oh no," Rachel moaned as she collapsed back on top of her bed. "I thought I was just dreaming!"

"You are definitely not dreaming," Quinn confirmed.

The brunette climbed off her bed, and attempted to smush down her wild hair.

"Well…we have to leave for school, ahem, excuse me, _I_ have to leave for school in one hour, so I would appreciate it if you would just keep quiet while I get ready." Rachel stated authoritatively.

Quinn merely quirked her right eyebrow and gestured to the bathroom door as if to say, "After you".

The diva proceeded to go through her thorough morning routine, as the blonde just stood in the doorway, fascinated with Rachel's every move. Rachel tried her hardest to ignore the spirit and went about pinning her hair up. She also made sure to apply a liberal amount of liquid eyeliner.

"Are you going to just stand there and watch me?" the brunette huffed.

"I thought I was supposed to keep quiet?" Quinn countered.

"Well it's rather creepy just having you… _there._"

"Okay," the blonde whispered back, tightly closed her eyes, and backed out of the bright bathroom. She would not let Rachel see that what she had said affected Quinn.

After Quinn felt like she was thoroughly put back together, she heard Rachel holler from the bathroom, " Hey you beautiful, somewhat bizarre, figment of my imagination! Finn's here, so I'm headed off to school-"

"Can I come with you?" the blonde squeaked in response.

**I know this chapter was really just dialogue between the two, but I didn't want to rush Quinn's visit to McKinley. Please please review. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to all of those who reviewed last chapter! I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to update this story. Life has been a bit bizarre lately. I have a firm grasp of what is going to happen with the rest of this, though. **

"_Dying is like getting audited by the IRS-something that only happens to other people ... until it happens to you." – Jerome P. Crabb_

Quinn sat perched in the back of Finn's worn down pick-up. She ran her fingers against the rough fabric of the seat cushions. If she closed her eyes and thought hard enough, she could almost feel the seat beneath her, and if she focused on those seats, she could almost forget that she was trapped in the small cab with Rachel and Finn. It was torturous to sit and watch him rest his massive hands on her fidgety knees. Quinn longed to be the one to reassure Rachel, not the cause of her unease.

"Rach, are you gonna tell me what's up?" Finn questioned his jittery girlfriend.

Rachel shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to," she replied.

Just as Finn was about to question her further, the distinct ringing of McKinley's warning bell echoed throughout the parking lot. He sighed, obviously confused by his girlfriend's anxiety. Reaching out, he softly ran his thumb along her cheek.

"We better be getting to class," she murmured turning away from his touch and quickly opening the passenger door. Just as she was sliding off her seat, his hand caught hers.

"I love you."

Rachel looked back at him, tears welling in her deep brown eyes and simply replied, "I know."

Eager to keep up with restless brunette, Quinn scrambled out of the back seat and straight through the passenger door.

"Hey!" she called after Rachel. "Please, wait for me."

The diva slowed down, but did not acknowledge the blonde's presence.

"Rachel, come on. Can we talk? You said last night that we could try and figure this out," Quinn pleaded.

The brunette held up her hand as if to silence the pestering spirit and took an unexpected turn into the girls' restroom. Once they were both hidden from the school by the run-down bathroom door, she turned to face Quinn, a look of pure agitation taking over her face.

"What do you expect me to do? Talk to you in front of the entire student body and just confirm their suspicions that I am absolutely clinically insane?" Rachel huffed.

Quinn stared down at the dull linoleum floor, looking thoroughly chastised, and mumbled a soft, "Sorry."

"It's alright," Rachel replied after taking a deep breath to calm herself down. " You are probably just as confused as I am. Now I was going to head to the library since I have a study period this morning. You know, see if I can do some research on this whole situation. Care to join me?"

Quinn smiled down at the petite girl and wondered what she had done in her life to deserve Rachel Berry as her friend.

"That sounds perfect, Rach."

The two made their way down to McKinley's library. Upon entering, Quinn froze and attempted desperately to fill her nostrils with the sweet smell of musty books, but to no avail.

"Quinn," Rachel whispered, gesturing with her head for the spirit to follow her to the back corner. Quinn nodded back and solemnly followed her crush to an abandoned table, hidden from the librarian by a row of bookshelves.

"What was that all about?" the brunette questioned, gesturing towards the front entrance of the library.

Quinn shrugged, and focused on her nail beds, "I guess I'm just trying to get used to this."

The blonde could feel the diva's eyes on her, and slowly looked up to meet her gaze. "What?"

"What does it feel like?" Rachel whispered.

"Being dead?" Quinn questioned. Rachel merely nodded in reply. "I don't know how to describe it. I guess… well it's kind of torturous. I mean, aside from you, no one can hear me, or see me. I have become the ultimate observer. I am forced to watch everyone I love fall apart and yet I am unable to do anything about it."

The blonde closed her eyes, overwhelmed with loss. She went through the motions of taking two deep breaths, which for some reason, calmed her considerably.

"I can't smell these old books, or your Chanel No. 5… I will never be able to taste bacon again, or hot chocolate, or my mother's brownies… I think the worst thing is that I really just want someone to hold me and tell me it's all going to be alright, but everything I touch just goes right through me…. It's better now, though. Now that I have you."

Rachel smiled sympathetically at the blonde. "I'm so sorry, Quinn. I think, well, I think I may know how we can fix this, though."

Quirking her eyebrow, Quinn scooted closer to the brunette, intrigued by the diva's plan.

"Well, in every film or book I have seen about ghosts, spirits, whatever you would like to call yourself, it seems as though they all want to 'cross over', move into this metaphorical light. All we have to do is figure out what is keeping you attached to this life."

Quinn smiled at the diva's idea, attempting to appear excited by this new plan while Rachel began to research the afterlife in a few encyclopedias. The blonde didn't have the heart to inform Rachel that she had given up her chance to move on. Death had made it very clear that since Quinn chose to stay with Rachel, she would be unable to go to any other afterlife. She didn't regret the decision, though. No afterlife was worth the loss of Rachel.

A shrill bell began to ring throughout the library signaling the end of first period. Collecting her pages of notes, Rachel stood up, eager to make it to her first class on time.

"Coming?" she questioned the contemplative spirit. The blonde smiled at the brunette and shrugged.

"Oh come on! Who would want to miss the chance to watch Mrs. Murphy lecture on limits?" Rachel replied sarcastically. A genuine smile took over the spirit's face at the diva's antics.

As Quinn stood up to follow her crush, however, a deep sense of dread consumed her. Her mind was unexpectedly overwhelmed with worry for her mother. Something was not right.

Quinn bit her lip, as the smile quickly disappeared from her face and quickly shook her head, "No, no I have to go. Something's wrong. I-"

"Stop, focus on me. Come on Quinn, tell me what's happening," Rachel urged, confused by her friend's sudden change in demeanor.

"It's my mom. I d-don't know what's wrong. I have to go find her."

The diva stood as close to Quinn as she could without actually touching the spirit. "Alright, let's go."

The blonde began to shake her head, "Rachel, you can't come, you have class-"

Rachel stomped her foot and glared at her stubborn friend. "Quinn Fabray, I lost you once, I sure as hell am not going to lose you again. Give me just a minute to get Kurt's car keys and then we can go to your house."

"Okay. I-I'll let you meet me there. I think… I think I can get there on my own."

As Rachel began to question the blonde once more, Quinn began to focus on the old house her mother had been cooped up in the past few weeks. Sure enough, the world begin to change shape once more, just as she hoped it would. After a few moments, Quinn found herself at the base of the stairs in her childhood home. The house looked as though it had been abandoned. The once pristine staircase now had a thick layer of dust covering it's banister. She did not take much time to examine the house's state of disarray, though, because a loud thump suddenly emanated from the master bedroom. Taking two stairs at a time, the spirit dashed to her mom's room and slid effortlessly through its oak doors. There, curled on the hardwood floor laid an eerily still Judy Fabray.

**Please please review beautiful readers. I _need_ them to continue writing. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the delay in getting this out to you all. I just wanted to build the suspense…**

"_Death's in the good-bye." –Anne Sexton_

Quinn was just five years old when she first saw her mother unconscious. It was Christmas Eve, the house was pristinely decorated with twinkling lights and holly. She was supposed to be sound asleep in bed, and she had honestly tried her hardest to get a good nights rest, that is until she heard a slight commotion coming from the first floor. The young girl had just heard a story earlier that day about how Santa Claus brought presents in the middle of the night.

Muffled voices wafted up to the top of the stairwell where she sat crouched in the shadows. This was it. Quinn was finally going to be able to see Santa Claus in real life. As she sat wondering how large his tummy truly was, the voices from downstairs began to sound more and more familiar. Disappointment coursed through the young girl as she realized it was just her parents downstairs. The feeling didn't last for long, however.

What was at first a quiet discussion quickly escalated when her father's booming voice growled threateningly, causing the kindergartener to cower in fear. Why was her Daddy so mad?

Curiosity consumed her as the young blonde took a few steps forwards and peered down at the ruckus downstairs.

"Judy, you _know_ I forbid you to speak with _those_ men." Russell barked at his shaking wife.

"Y-yes, I know dear, but th-they are in my book club and are really quite pleasant. I-if you just took the time to get to know them, maybe you wouldn't be so scared-"

The sharp snap of his bare hand impacting with Judy's cheek quickly cut off her stammering.

Russell quickly shoved her against the closest wall, "Listen closely, those vile men do not scare me, they disgust me. If I find out you are spending any more time with the Berry's you will regret it, mark my words."

"B-but Russell, they are in my book club, I c-can't drop out of the club, i-it's all I have-"

Once more Russell's swift hand smacked Judy's already bruising face. This blow was much more fierce, however, seeing as Judy's body crumbled under the force. Russell stepped back from her still form, his face flushed with anger, and quickly burst into the garage.

After Quinn heard the familiar sound of the garage door closing, she rushed over to her mother's lifeless form. She pressed her small head to her mother's bosom. Boom boom. Boom boom. The staccato of her mother's heartbeat echoed throughout Quinn's head. She was alive.

Thirteen years later, Quinn found herself in a similar position.

"Mommy?" Quinn whispered.

The spirit lowered herself down closer to her mother, trying to see a pulse or perhaps a slight rise in her chest. She was desperate to see anything that would prove her mother was still alive. She was so transfixed that the ringing of the front doorbell barely registered in her already jumbled mind.

"Hello?!" Rachel screamed from the other side of the door. "Please someone, anyone, answer the door," the brunette hollered as she jiggled the front door handle.

A few moments later Quinn walked straight through the front door and appeared before the brunette.

"Wh-what the hell was that?" Rachel muttered, startled by the blonde's sudden appearance.

Quinn shrugged and quickly waved the diva on, "Come on, the hide-a-key is in the rock behind the hydrangea plant. My m-mom- I don't know if she's alive. Hurry, Rach."

The brunette did as she was told and unlocked the front door, and followed the ghost up the creaky staircase. She tried to ignore the house's solemn appearance, but the longer she remained in its shadows, the more she felt like she was becoming apart of it.

"Mrs. Fabray?" Rachel called softly, attempting to alert the older woman to her presence. "Mrs. Fabray, it's Rachel Berry. Is everything alright?"

Quinn turned to the cautious brunette. "Rach, she's unconscious. Open the damn door and check her pulse… please."

After rubbing her sweaty palms together, Rachel turned the brass doorknob to reveal the crumpled shell of Judy Fabray. A soft gasp escaped from her parted lips as the diva rushed towards the still body.

Pressing her frail fingers to Judy's neck, Rachel barely felt the soft pitter-patter.

"Th-there's a pulse, it's weak, but it's there," she muttered.

"Oh thank god," Quinn sighed. "C-call 911, Rach. Please, she can't die. She can't die."

It wasn't until the ambulance had pulled into its wing at Lima General that Rachel had realized what had happened. The minute diva hazily remembered yelling at the paramedics and insisting that she travel with them to the hospital, but amidst the chaos of incessant heart monitors and sizzling paddles, Rachel found that her surroundings became a blur. All she was focused on were the tear-filled eyes of the spirit next to her.

Had she been in the right frame of mind, Rachel would have questioned how ghosts could even tear-up, but Rachel was not in the right frame of mind, so she remained stoic, wishing for nothing more than to hold Quinn's hand.

As the EMTs ushered Mrs. Fabray's gurney into the Emergency Room, Quinn found herself hesitant to leave the confines of the ambulance. This hospital had never been a place of comfort for her. It was where she came after every cheerleading injury and where she learned that she would have to sit on the bench for a few weeks. It was where she got stitches after slicing her hand open while cutting the turkey during the Fabray's first Thanksgiving without Russell. Last time she was at this hospital she was forced to face the harsh reality of her accident. Most importantly, it was where Quinn had to let go of the one good thing in her life. Beth.

"Quinn?" Rachel whispered. "Come on. She needs you."

"Where was she when I needed her?" Quinn muttered back.

Rachel frowned. "Stop it. You're better than that."

"Am I?" the blonde questioned, scared to hear the answer.

"Of course you are," the diva replied without a hint of hesitancy.

Quinn bit her lip and glanced up at Rachel, worry etched across her face. "Will you stay with me?"

"I won't leave your side."

The two made their way to the waiting room walking as close to each other as they possibly could.

Quinn was unaware of how much time had passed since she had started waiting for news on her mother. She only had to sit through two episodes of court TV before the incredibly flustered Berry men bombarded the waiting room.

"Baby?"

Rachel glanced up to see her worried fathers enter the overly sterile hospital. A look of confusion followed quickly by relief slashed across her expressive face.

"Wh-what are you doing here? How did you know-"

"Honey. I am the Chief of Surgery. Nothing happens in this hospital without my knowledge. Sandy called the minute she realized you were here and we came as quickly as we could. Now tell me, what happened? Why weren't you in school?" Hiram inquired.

Rachel froze, wide-eyed. How was she supposed to explain to her dads that her dead friend guided her to Judy's unconscious body?

Quinn knew that look. "Rach, tell them you had a study period. You were just dropping off-"

"Tickets." Rachel replied.

"What was that, dear?" Leroy asked, confused.

The diva flushed. "I had a study period so I was visiting Judy to give her tickets to our Nationals pre-show recital….we're doing a tribute...for Quinn."

"Well that was very thoughtful of you baby girl, but how did that lead to you being at the hospital, alone?"

"Well when I arrived at her house, no one answered the door, and well… I just, I felt like someone was trying to tell me something. Something seemed wrong. I found the hide-a-key and, well I found Judy…unconscious, in her bedroom. I called an ambulance and well, now I'm here."

Leroy and Hiram wore matching expressions of sympathy.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone, sweetheart," Leroy muttered, while rubbing small circles on his daughter's back.

Rachel looked over at Quinn. "It's alright. I wasn't alone," the brunette smiled softly. "I had Judy's guardian angel with me."

**Hello readers! So I need something for the image for this story… Any ideas? Please review!**


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